


Give In

by opti



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, PWP, Porn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:39:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3809008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opti/pseuds/opti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tension in the air is just too much and, Chris be damned, if she won't do anything about it he will. </p><p>"Road Trip" AU/what-if/whatever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashisfriendly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashisfriendly/gifts).



> This is me upholding my pinky promise to Ash. 
> 
> Prompted as "Sex at work + fingering." I was a little, let's say little, flexible with the "work" part of this because I recently rewatched S3 and the sexual tension here had me pouting.

When they're on that couch, so close and as far away as ever, the oddly tight and weirdly form-fitting clothes Chris gave him start to feel even more constricting. Maybe it's the fact that Leslie's wearing some loose-fitting sweats that still make her look incredible and only help to bring out every curve of her, but his shorts feel a size too small when she walks away from him. 

That's mostly because he watches her ass move in tilting shapes, following each of her steps in mesmerizing patterns that only make him harder. 

Then there's Chris and his game of Boggle that he's somehow roped into at the absurd hour. If there's anything Ben's into it's challenging puzzles and board games, but not when he's sporting a rager and his brain flits between scenes of Leslie on her knees and in his lap. It's even more frustrating than usual, mostly due to the whole boner situation he has to wrangle with at the same time as totally ignoring words like 'fuck' that are so blatantly obvious it hurts, literally and figuratively. Thankfully, feigning a yawn or two and asking if they can have a raincheck gets Chris out of the den. 

In the dark, he can't help but slip out of the shorts and grip himself with a sigh. At least he's under a thin blanket, but the idea just makes him feel worse about doing this in his friend's condo that he can't focus. His brain's wracked with images of Leslie in a bob with as much elegance as there could be in someone as intense as Leslie Knope, that sweatshirt that he swears up and done he didn't peek over when she leaned forward a little, and all of them just make him stick out sore and hopeless but it feels wrong. All of it's wrong, save for one thing.

He just really wants to fuck Leslie.

There's more to it than that, but everything's built up into this mess that it makes him leave his face in his hands and sigh louder this time. It's a stupid rule. 

 _You could get fired_ , he thinks.  _Or worse, get her fired._

But, God, wouldn't it be worth it to just hold her for a little while? Feel her breasts against his chest and in his hands, on his lips? There's always going to be the risk, as far as he knows and until she inevitably finds her way into a position higher than his, but it would be worth it. Every instinct tells him to go to that spare room and slam the door open, uncaring that Chris would hear. To fuck her senseless without bothering to stop for anything would be absolutely worth it.

 _You're good friends_ , he remembers.  _It could screw everything up. Like always._

That was inevitable, but there's parts of Ben that are rational and think and always consider every action to the most meticulous detail and then there's that part of him - the part that looks at his withering corpse of a mayoral career - that acts and doesn't care; it doesn't think. It's angry, lusting, and knows it's not just him now. Spending a lot of time in his room at that absolute nightmare-come-reality house, in bed when he has to wear headphones or suffer the consequences, Ben thinks. That's the Ben that thinks, pictures and fantasizes, and the hungry Ben pumps himself night after night to those dreams of Leslie riding him and his face between her legs.

Animalistic Ben emerges then. The one that doesn't think tucks his dick into the waistband of his shorts, because he's horny not oblivious, and strides as quietly as he can towards the guest room. He knocks at the door because there's no way she's asleep yet. It's only midnight, after all, so unless she wants to be up at three o'clock Leslie's definitely awake. She welcomes him in and is lying on the bed with her laptop open, typing away at some report or other or e-mail or correspondence but, God she's still wearing those clothes. 

"Hey," she speaks and has the groggy bite to her voice that makes him almost  _shake_. "Couldn't sleep?"

Ben reminds himself to think. "Yeah, I guess," he whispers.

Sitting down on the far corner of the bed, he notes that Leslie's legs have this curve to them - just above her calves - that would fit wonderfully in his hands. He could kiss them, too, and slowly guide himself back to feasting on her. There's a moment where he thinks she's going to tell him to leave, and that this is inappropriate, but she only has her little, sideways smirk that makes him grin awkwardly and chuckle. She's beautiful, sexy in every way, and he really - really, really,  _really_ \- wants to fuck her.

The tension in the air is just too much and, Chris be damned, if she won't do anything about it he will. 

"Listen, Ben, I know-"

He doesn't give her time to speak. There's no thinking. Ben almost lunges, or as best a lunge he can make on that bed, over to her. The laptop falls to the side under the totally noiseless press into the mattress and Leslie gives in.

Her whole body conforms to fit tightly against his own. Her lips are warm and accept his attack with a greedy fervor until she makes this small sound that burns right through his mouth and down his chest. Sitting on the bed, he eventually brushes her legs up so that they're hiked on the bed with her knees in the air. He never stops kissing her, the feeling as spectacular as he imagined. There's no lengthy, drawn-out moans that come out or anything his brain could cook up, instead only the rough pulses of breathing between each moment they're together. 

If he was hard before, the heat of Leslie's mouth and the way her breasts feel against his chest nearly breaks him and he can't help but let himself loose and drop his hand to the inside of her leg. The bit where his hand falls, gently kneading her inner thigh, makes Leslie give that same, little noise that urges his hips forward. A few more moments, maybe minutes or even the whole night, pass before they finally stop kissing and just look at each other. Any chance of regretting his decision is long gone and anything that could persuade him that this was a mistake dies in that moment.

That moment when Leslie bucks her hips forward, making his hand slide up her leg.

"It's not just me?" he asks again, stupidly.

"It's not just you," she shakes her head lightly, her hair moving and calling for his hand in those locks.

"Great," he smirks, appreciating her keen smile before threading his hand through her hair.

Balling up his fist, he can't help but shudder and groan when she puts her hand over his on her leg. Guiding him further inward until he's met with a gasping plea that sounds somewhere between regular English and a total mess and his hand's just gently grazing her over thin pants. It takes a microscopic amount of time before he's too fast and his hand tents the front of them while he gauges her reaction. At least some of the intelligent Ben is guiding the part of him that is seriously considering how loud she can be when she's on her stomach and how much sound those pillows will block out.

Her eyes have that listless, staring quality that tell him he's either made a huge mistake or it's lust blinding her. Then Leslie returns and she takes a breath before holding onto his hand and guiding him even lower. Returning to his mouth, the kiss syncs perfectly with her hand showing him the little damp bit that makes Ben groan into her open mouth. 

"Sit up," he tells her in a dark grumble he musters up from somewhere.

Leslie listens to him and together their hands move even closer to her. She's astoundingly wet, and the way his hand glides along her pussy until his palm rests on her clit makes him memorize every bit of her. With his tongue, he'd carve out that shape on the right that feels a little bigger than the left and he'd suck down hard on that bundle the heel of his hand constantly works. Ben wants to do it now, but watching her part from his mouth and her eyes close slowly with the quickly building action in their hands is satisfying for a very different reason.

He intended to make her ride his hand, and the idea is too hot to just let go, but now Ben thinks a little harder. He thinks about what he wants her to have and what he wants her to show him.

"Show me how you like it," he almost drawls, completely unaware of his own arousal because this -  _her_ \- is frankly debilitating.

"This is-"

"Right," he finishes for her, pressing his ring finger into her wet and hot. "Show me what you like."

She lets out a harsh stutter of a moan, something like one but it's so small and perfectly  _Leslie_ that it reminds Ben of his erection. Ignoring himself, Ben pulls back on her hair just a bit more and watches her neck arch backward just in time with his finger. She holds the back of his hand, helping him discover a rhythm that feels awkward and at an odd angle for him but the distress in his muscles is worth Leslie's sudden bucking when he finds her angle.

As if trying to meet with every curl of his finger, Ben adds his thumb against her clit only making Leslie squeal the loudest noise she's made yet. If he was thinking, her panties would have been a wonderful fix for that problem. When he's fingering her, watching Leslie come undone and they're just giving in to any desire they want, he imagines these things. What it'd be like to stuff her mouth with her underwear, before and after this, and what it'd be like to do so many wonderful things to her that she deserves to feel, to be loved, and to be shown that he wants her so bad it hurts.

She's delightful. It's the only word he can use that makes any sense to him to describe this. Holding her head back, kissing her neck, and slowly working her at the angle she showed him is unbelievable after the grueling hours of tension with Chris in the room. Now he's just across a hall and could hear them during one of his twelve nightly excursions, and find them, fire them both on the spot, and create a whirlwind of a shitstorm for Leslie. 

But her pussy is so good, and she comes with shaky legs and one hand around his wrist in her panties and the other groping his knee. How can he deny her any of this?

"Oh, crap," she gasps, that innocent little  _swear_ of hers somehow incredibly sexy. "Like that."

"Is that good?" he asks and she nods as best she can with her head tightly wound in his fist. "You feel so good."

" _Yes_..." she trails off, her eyes squeezing tight in time with her legs desperately searching for each other in an instinctual begging.

Eventually she's as wet and no longer a powerful series of muscles and contractions, instead thriving on the rhythmic pattern in his hand. Lining another finger up with her, he slides in gently in the next pass and before long she's crumbling again. The way her breasts heave makes his mind do backflips, instantly darting his mouth to kiss her through the sweatshirt that's been driving him crazy all night. They feel so perfect in his mouth, even through the two layers of shirt and undershirt, until he's leaning down and cupping her nipple in his mouth. 

Never does Ben let that urge to fuck her into a stupor die, the animal in him pleading with his body to let his dick take precedence over his fingers - and the thought of how she'd feel with her lips wrapped around him and pulsing with every thrust is  _devastating_  - but thankfully he gives her another crook before she's writhing around him. Her feet grip the sheets where her hands are too busy with his own, and it's only seconds before he slips out of her. She almost thrashes about without that presence in her, and he's actually proud of himself for once (and un-fucking-believably turned on.) Leslie makes the most satisfying, wanting, begging noise when he does that and it only makes sense to him to kiss her again. Ben grips her hip, moves to her stomach, and tastes the bruise in her bottom lip from squeezing them together and biting down.

Her hand moves up from his leg, hovering over his crotch. Leslie breathes out her comedown, relaxing after the abrupt flooding of her nerves that makes Ben want to just bend her over and fuck her so badly. Just one thrust is all it would take. Honestly, it'd be embarrassing and he knows it. Leslie's hand runs over his length, still so damn hard and so frustrated he could come almost instantly from that.

"God, I've wanted to do this so bad," she remarks but before Ben can ask her what she means, Leslie falls to her knees in front of him.

If the noise Ben makes can be described as anything, it'd be gibberish. She frees him, so hard and sticking hot in her hand and she just stares. Like she's unearthed some magnificent treasure, Leslie just ogles his cock. Part of him should be flattered, turned on, and so many other things, but right now there's a growing frustration that just wants this all finished and to finish  _hard_.

Putting his hand back in her hair, Leslie gets the message and finally moves closer to him. Little kisses press up the side of his shaft, his underside met with intricate shapes and movements of her lips alone, until she reaches his head. Licking just beneath his slit makes him nearly scream, strangling his own breaths so he doesn't.

"Ugh, fuck," Ben grumbles, unaware or uncaring - both Bens have their opinion - that he's gripping her head incredibly tight in his fist.

"That cute, little butt of yours and now this?" she whispers with a faint wonderment in her voice, running her lips along his head. "A girl's in heaven here."

Ben makes to speak but she plunges him deep in her mouth then. Not far enough to take all of him, as impressive a first gulp that would be, but enough to break his speech. His other hand naturally goes to her hair and it takes a few moments to realize she isn't moving. Leslie only stays engorging him, breathing softly through her nose and only faintly moving the back of her tongue. He pulls up tentatively, and Leslie lets out a soft noise around him.

Animal Ben  _loves_ this reward, and the Thinking Ben is too dumbfounded to argue with what’s in front of him. He takes the back of her head and guides her on his cock, showing her the pace that's so good it's only going to take a moment. 

She grips his thigh, no other stimulus other than her mouth around his dick necessary, and accepts the helping hands that shove her up and down on him for only a few, incredible - jaw-dropping, kind of moans that he's never made before in his life, dangerously close to screaming as loud as possible - seconds before he tries to pull her away. 

Leslie holds tight on his thigh and chokes around him for a second, just a rough guttural, before he can't take that pressure and wet heat and comes in long streams up and into her throat. Some of it drips past her lips, joined by saliva, and falls down his shaft and that just makes it even sexier.

After he finishes with Leslie breathing hard and wiping her lips with back of her hand - her hair a total wreck from his fists, her mouth red and totally swollen - he picks her up off the floor and her knees and puts her in his lap. 

"So..." he starts awkwardly, staring at her lips. "I'm sure that was just-"

"I want this," Leslie speaks in a hushed tone, running her hand up to his jawline and leaving him with a kiss on the cheek. "Screw Chris and his stupid rule."

 _This is such a bad idea_ , he wants to say. Ben knows he should say that, and rip them apart just so that she doesn't have to deal with him or anything he does and ruins.

Rather than say anything, he leans forward to answer her with his tongue. Kissing Leslie is so right, and feels so right, that he can't bother to think and can only give in to what they both want. That's what, selfishly he realizes, makes it easier for him. The fact that he isn't alone in this is a small comfort for how dangerous their decision is. Still, there's time for them to be with each other just for a little while now.

It might be another few hours, he really isn't sure because Animal Ben keeps time and he's still totally lost, but they stay like that for a while. It's close and comfortable after that, Ben keeping his hand between her legs until she complains about soreness. Understanding, he's lost in her curling up on him with her head on his chest and kissing him for what seems like forever. Eventually she drifts off and he knows better than to stay there. Leaving her to go to sleep, peacefully and apparently undisturbed, Ben walks back to the couch and thanks something that Chris bought new Sounds of Nature relaxation mixes.

Sleep is hard to come by, but he hadn’t ever expected to get much of it here. Not with Leslie only so far away from him, but now Ben can let his eyes droop and pass out with the burrowing worry in the back of his head:

_This is a huge mistake._

Not for him, but for her. Ben could get away with never working in government again in his entire life, and it would frankly lift a lot of weight off of him, but potentially ruining Leslie's political career sounds like a nightmare to him. So, eventually, Thinking Ben comes back and enlists the help of his dear friend to help pick apart every bit of minutia that makes him feel like shit for what they just did. Though, really, he feels that it was worth it he doesn't know if it should be.


End file.
